Primacy
by booksandmusic19
Summary: Even if they were star-crossed lovers, District Two would never accept two victors. That is not how Careers work.


_Even if they were star-crossed lovers, District Two would never accept two victors. That is not how Careers work. _

I wrote this last night after seeing The Hunger Games a second time. I was really interested how the film expanded on the book, and I found the Careers to be especially interesting, particularly given Cato's monologue at the end. I used the film quotes, because I liked them better in my story, but this can be in either book- or film-verse. It's up to you. A quick note about the title - I chose _Primacy_ because even though neither of them win, it is a given for Careers that they win, and winning is always in the back of their minds.

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games – it belongs to Suzanne Collins. All characters are hers, and some of the dialogue is taken from the movie – it is in italics. **

* * *

><p>The announcement changes nothing.<p>

Clove doesn't look up from cleaning her knives, and she hears Cato stop sharpening his sword for the slightest instant.

She knows it isn't for their benefit. Careers don't compromise. Even if it ended with the two of them, one would be dead before the hovercraft came to retrieve the victor.

That is the way Careers work. To share the victory would suggest weakness, a deficiency.

Besides, no one would be following the star-crossed lovers from District 2, even if they existed. All the cameras are trained on Loverboy and Fire Girl.

The scrape of metal against metal stops, and Cato says, "Well? We still have four more."

Clove turns and smiles, a smile that would make viewers squirm in their seats. But no one sees it. They are watching the drama unfold in a dark cave.

"I call Fire Girl," she says.

It's only her right - she tried to kill the girl from District 12 outright, but her pack got in the way. She'd just be finishing what she started.

She would take it slow. A knife to the hand, then one to the shoulder before a neat throw right between the eyes.

She throws a knife into the nearest tree for practice. It wedges perfectly between two pieces of bark.

"Not if I get to her first," Cato says.

He adds a jab about how she's unnecessarily dulling her blades as he turns toward the forest. She pretends not to hear him, not for his sake but because she doesn't take that from anyone, not even an ally.

They walk for a while, picking up District 5's trail for a while before losing it under some brush. The late afternoon soon turns to dusk, bathing everything in a hazy blue light.

They set up camp under a large tree, hidden enough to prevent anyone from seeing them. There are not many supplies left, but at least Clove listened to Enobaria when she said to keep the most important things near you.

She takes a cracker out of her pack and bites a corner. Cato leans against the tree. He does not eat anything, and Clove wonders if their supplies are that low.

After a moment's hesitation - they are Careers, and Careers show no emotion - Clove extends the box of crackers. The chances that the Capitol is watching them right now are low, and Clove thinks it might not be bad if they saw her and Cato as lovestruck. It would get them more sponsors, at least.

And as much as she hates to admit it, they need to keep their alliance to find the other Tributes, and that won't happen if they are starving.

Without a word, he takes a cracker, leaving one in the tin and daring her to say something.

She does not. For all they know how to hunt and kill, their skills are attuned to Tributes, not food. And they have yet to weed out the remaining Tributes. Starving will do them no good.

Clove leans her head against the tree, looking around for any sort of movement. The sooner they find the rest of the Tributes, the sooner she can go home.

When it comes down to it, she is prepared to kill Cato. Because that is what Careers do. They make alliances and then renege. She knows how she would do it, too. She'd make it nice and simple, throw a knife at his throat, get it nice and center, before doing the same to his heart.

She knows he has a plan for how he'll kill her, once the moment comes. It's only a matter of who is quicker.

"It's amazing Loverboy has held on this long," Clove says to break the silence.

Cato glares. "The next time, you can kill him."

"With pleasure."

She runs a finger along one of her blades, sharp and deadly. One well-thrown knife could have killed him in three seconds flat.

"Fire Girl's probably already found him," Clove says. Her voice is bitter.

"They're an easier target together," Cato says. "Slower."

"They're probably all anyone is watching. When I make a kill I want them to see it live, not in replay."

Cato laughs. Like Clove's smile, it is terrifying rather than an expression of happiness. "We could hunt them tomorrow."

Clove nods in agreement. Best to put the lovebirds down.

Without warning, another announcement booms through the Arena.

_Attention, tributes, attention! Commencing at sunrise, there will be a feast tomorrow at the Cornucopia. This will be no ordinary occasion. Each of you needs something. Desperately. And we plan to be... generous hosts. _

Clove leans back against the tree. "Food. I bet we get food."

"Fire Girl will have to come. There'll probably be medicine of some sort, for Loverboy. We can get her then," Cato says.

Clove agrees, but before she can say anything, a shiver wracks her body. The nights have been getting colder and without their supplies at the Cornucopia, they don't have much in the way of insulation.

She catches Cato looking at her and clenches her fists. "I'm fine."

He pats the ground next to him. It is a clear invitation.

Careers don't snuggle. But they also don't freeze to death on cold nights. Clove slides over to lean against Cato. He is warm, and his body smells of musk and sweat and blood.

After a moment, he drapes an arm around her shoulder. "Just for tonight," he says. "Tomorrow we hunt them all."

And after that, there will be a winner and a loser. And the cameras are on the District 12 Tributes, so no one sees this moment of weakness. It will go with one of them to the grave, and the other will never reveal its occurrence.

To do so would indicate a deficiency on their part.

"Tomorrow we kill," she agrees.

As she dozes off, her head drops to rest on Cato's shoulder. Just before she loses consciousness, she feels the slightest brush of warmth on her cheek, almost imagined.

The next morning they divide the remaining cracker and hike back to the Cornucopia. It is still the early hours of the dawn, and a mist hangs over the Arena, limiting their visibility.

Neither of them mentions the previous night while they walk.

Once they reach the Cornucopia, they find a suitable vantage point - the woods just behind the pedestals - and crouch, watching.

The first Tribute to come is not from District 12. Rather it is the girl from Five who runs in, snatches the bag, and is out of sight almost before they recognize her.

Clove moves to chase after her - she only needs to get within range to plant a knife in the girl's back - but Cato grabs her wrist. "Leave her. We can find her later."

Clove does not jerk her arm away a quickly as she might have.

After perhaps five minutes, another figure emerges from the clearing. Clove sees her bow instantly. "Fire Girl," she hisses.

Before Cato can respond, Clove is on her feet and running to the mouth of the Cornucopia. The knife is already in her hand, heavy and cold, when she gets within range.

It misses, and Clove lunges at Katniss before the other girl can string an arrow. They grapple on the ground and Clove is pinned for one terrifying moment before she breaks free.

Careers don't lose to District 12.

With that thought, Clove kicks out and flips, pinning Katniss under her. "_Where's Loverboy?" _she jeers.

Off dying in some cave. Not like Cato, who is waiting for her right in the woods.

Under Clove's knee, Katniss squirms to get the bag. "_You're gonna help him, right? That's sweet. It's too bad you couldn't help your little friend - what was her name? Rue?"__  
><em>  
>Clove takes immense satisfaction from the pain in Katniss's eyes. The little girl dies and she gets to be all sad about it.<p>

But Careers can't mourn their friends, even if those friends were temporary and carved out of clay instead of marble.

_"We killed her. And now we're gonna kill you."_

Clove pulls out one of her throwing knives, small and delicate. She pulls her arm back above her head, takes a breath in - release on the exhale, always release on the exhale...

She pulled up by her shoulders, then thrown back on the ground, and the air leaves her chest. Suddenly, she isn't a Career anymore. She is painfully aware of her size in comparison to Eleven's huge stature. Gasping, she yells, "Cato! CATO!"

They are allies. There cannot be two victors, but better to be the last two standing than to have the possibility of an Eleven or Twelve victory. Clove knows that. She hopes Cato does too.

"CATO!"

She doesn't want to die. Cato is just around the Cornucopia, he can run and stop Thresh.

They may not be star-crossed lovers, but that doesn't mean Clove never dreamed.

Looking up to see Eleven holding a large rock in one hand, she tries one more time, but her yell comes out pathetically quiet.

A Career doesn't close her eyes. Clove forces herself to look at the deep blue sky.

"We could have done it, Cato," she whispers.

But District 2 could only have one victor.

The rock comes down. She does not close her eyes.

The cannon booms.

* * *

><p>Please leave a review! I love feedback &amp; concrit!<p> 


End file.
